


Where The Red Fern Grows, Angels Lie.

by IrateScribe (orphan_account)



Series: Where The Red Fern Grows [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Boys Kissing, Fluff, Gentle Kissing, Implied Underage Frottage, M/M, Nothing explicit, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Underage Kissing, Wincest - Freeform, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:27:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23200195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/IrateScribe
Summary: It came naturally to both of them. It was no different than Dean protecting Sam. No different from Sam helping Dean dress his wounds after a hunt. No different from them sharing a bed in a crummy motel, clinging close together. It was just the next step.It was just a kiss, after all.Right?(Also known as, me attempting to be poetic, with some angst thrown in.)
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Where The Red Fern Grows [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1667968
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

_ The legend of the red fern exists in many different cultures.  _

_ In Slavic tradition, couples would venture into the woods in search of the fern that only bloomed at night. The red fern became symbolic of fertility, sex, and, most of all, love.  _

_ The Hawaiian legend, Kampaua, the goddess of rain, attempted to capture her lover Pele, the god of volcanoes in a house of red ferns. _

_ The Native American legend is the most well-known story attached to the red fern. As the story goes, a young girl and boy were lost in a winter blizzard. When they were at last found, a red fern grew between the two. The Native Americans believed that the red fern could only be planted by an angel where love was pure. From that story comes the old saying; _

_ Where the red fern grows, angels lie. _


	2. Two Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so there is some underage kissing in here, and references to slightly more, but nothing explicit. I don't really feel comfortable writing underage smut.  
> (but I read it so... idk).  
> anyway, just wanted to let you know.

Dean sighed heavily. He and dad had just finished a hunt. Now, dad was over at the bar, and Dean was headed on his way to the motel. To Sammy. Dean's body ached for having been thrown against the wall by the spirit. He was tired, and angry. Dean had helped his dad a lot with the spirit today. And what did he get? Not even a thanks. Dean wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Sammy, curl up and sleep forever. 

He opened the door quietly. Sammy was probably already asleep, and Dean didn't want to wake him up. But Sammy was already awake Dean could tell from the slight movement that came from the bed. Dean sighed inwardly and moved toward the bed. He shifted the covers so he could slide in underneath next to Sammy. It was so comfortable and warm despite the bed's poor quality. But maybe that was just because Sammy was next to him. 

His brother's eyes gleamed in the moonlight that streamed through the window, but they didn't say anything. They didn't really need to. Sammy's fingers were quick to trace over Dean's arms in search of wounds, bruises. But he found nothing. Sammy's hand brushed through Dean's hair gently, soothing. Dean closed his eyes. He felt Sammy lean forward a little bit, and place a shy kiss on top of his forehead. Sammy didn't do that often. But Sammy kept on kissing over his face, on his brow, his cheek, his nose, his  _ lips _ . Sammy was kissing him! Dean tensed but didn't move. Dean's eyes flickered open, and Sammy jerked back. There was fear and worry in Sammy's face. Dean didn't like that.

"It's alright, Sammy," He reassured.

So Sammy kissed him again and again. It wasn't the type of kiss that Dean shared with girls before. The hungry, lusting kind This was delicate, this was loving. This kiss said so much more than any word could. It felt right. Sammy's lips were soft on his. His younger brother's delicate skin was comforting. Slowly, both of them slipped into dreams.

Years past, times changed, and so did the brothers. They shared covert kisses when their father wasn't around. It came naturally to both of them. It was no different than Dean protecting Sammy. No different from Sammy helping Dean dress his wounds after a hunt. No different from them sharing a bed in a crummy motel, clinging close together. It was just the next step.

Eventually, they shared more than kisses. At night when their father was away, they would kiss for what felt like hours until they were grinding against each other, chasing a pleasure that they hadn't felt before. A pleasure that left Sammy dizzy, and both of them breathless. Even to Dean, who was more experienced, it felt better than anything. But maybe that was because it was with Sammy. Everything was better when he was with Sammy. When they sat listening to Led Zeppelin. When they sat eating sandwiches in the summertime. When they lay breathless, holding hands under cover of darkness. They didn't talk about it. They probably should have, but they were already hiding so much from the world that adding one more secret to the mix was not much of a problem. So they didn't talk about it. Dean still flirted with girls, and Sammy never said anything about it. Of course, that didn't stop Dean from feeling slightly guilty, but it was what it was. Sammy never flirted with girls. Or boys. Well, except Dean, but the way he flirted with Dean was to call him a jerk.

“Bitch.” Dean would retort.

As the years passed, both boys grew. From the slender, skinny little boy that Sammy had been, he now was tall, his muscles strong, with a firm jaw. The same happened with Dean. They were hardly boys anymore; they were men. 

Sammy started growing his hair out. Their dad didn't like that. At all. 

"You're girl enough as it is," he would say." you don't need to grow your hair out too."

But Sammy wouldn't cut it, he absolutely refused to.

It took months of fights and sulking before; at last, their dad relented.

"If it means that much to you."

Sammy loved his long hair. He loved it when Dean would grasp a firm handful of it when they were together. How pain would turn to pleasure when Dean tugged. He loved it when Dean would comb his fingers through Sammy's sandy brown locks. Sammy liked his hair a lot.

But the fights with Dad continued until at last Sammy left for college.

He wasn't coming back. Not to Dad.

The two brothers had drifted apart over the years; they still kissed, still clung to each other, but it wasn't quite the same. So Dean didn't say anything as Sammy walked off with a bag slung over his shoulder. 

But he cried later that night when he listened to Led Zeppelin and thought about his brother. His Sammy.

Sam missed his brother. Of course he did. Sam tried to be happy. He tried to get used to not having to chase demons every day, not drive around the country in a car. But life was good at college. It was  _ normal _ . Normality was something that Sam craved. Or at least, he thought he did. 

So, he got a girlfriend. He was pretty sure he fell in love with her. He did well in his classes. He made friends. He didn’t miss dad, though. At least, he didn’t think he did. He remembered Dean, and thought of him often, but he tried not to remember the kisses. And for the most part he succeeded.

So it was a big surprise for Sam to at one moment hear someone rummaging around his house, and the next moment be flat on his back while someone kissed him.

“Easy, tiger.” The person,  _ man _ , said, as Sam struggled against the other’s strong grip. 

“Dean!?”

“It’s me, Sammy.”

The light flicked on and Sam was greeted with the gleeful face of his brother, Dean Winchester.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey. Hope you liked this.  
> I'm hoping I can turn this into a series. So expect more, but probably not soon.   
> Leave a comment, kudos, bla bla, you know the drill.


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